


Green Door

by XxymsxX



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Love, M/M, Star-crossed, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:05:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6404170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxymsxX/pseuds/XxymsxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met in college, and fell into a routine that is a little more than friendship, but something they're too scared to admit. Years later, they meet again, and somehow, the melancholy that surrounded their youthful love never left them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever you are, however you end up here, I just want to say thanks for the visit! Story is unfortunately not beta'd so please excuse the grammar errors here and there, I'll continue to edit this, but for now, enjoy!

He held the neck of the bottle tight, before taking another swing and gulping the bitter liquid down his burning throat in an attempt to numb his mind before he start knocking on the all too familiar green door. It’s the same door he have been seeing for a few months now, the ugly green paint peeling everywhere, the edges of the door cracking here and there but it always looks inviting, at 2 am anyway. He took another gulp when he felt his knees buckle a little; and another one when his mind is telling him to turn around. In the middle of his fourth gulp however, the door open and all his doubt disappeared as he look at the other man staring at him. 

He remembers the first time he laid his eyes on the man. They were just being introduced by a mutual friend, in their first year of college. Everything was simpler back then, everyone have goals and dreams that they know will come true. Be it naiveness or plain stupidity, everything was simpler. The first thing he noticed was the man’s eyes. They were bright and full of life, and it draws everyone in, him included. He was pretty, extraordinarily so, some say he even looks prettier than most girls. He wasn’t blown away at first, but it’s the kind of beauty that takes a while to sink in and once it does, it just never cease to amaze you, how beautiful can that person look. 

He pushed his way in, tearing his gaze away from the beautiful man because he just can’t fathom how someone could look so beautiful even with inches of dark bags under his eyes, hair messy with sleep glazing his oriental eyes. The door slammed shut behind him and he continued to walk haphazardly towards the worn out couch that sunk in just right, having had him a little too many times. The other man sat next to him, as he offered the man the bottle in his hand and the man accepts it, taking a couple of swings. The couch was placed in front of a wall of windows, and he breathes in the familiar scent of smoke in the man’s ratty apartment while taking in the familiar night view of the town. 

They became attached over a course of two weeks. At first it was kind of creepy how easy it was for him to get close to the guy, because he just have a way of scaring people away. He don’t know any other way than the lonely road so it scares him at first, how easy it was for them to talk. Like they’ve known each other their whole lives, and even their lives before that. But everything just falls perfectly in place, he never questions it. They bonded over their love for art, and would spend countless of sleepless nights hovering over their easels. After a while, it would be spent hovering over a few cans of beers. And now a few years down the road, they find themselves hovering over each others body.

 

Tonight was somehow worse than all the nights before, because for once he feels bad for knocking on the man’s door at 2 am. His eye bags are getting worse, screaming at him that the poor man need sleep, that the last thing he needs is a drunken visit on a working night. But the man could’ve shut the door on him, but he didn’t. So he wants him here, and that is enough to put his conscience away. He didn’t even realize he was lost in his train of thoughts until he feels the familiar chapped lips ghosting over his neck. He closed his eyes shut as the man pushed his palms up and down his thigh, reaching high up, but not quite enough. Then he was roughly pushed down the couch, as the man continues to leave bite marks down his jawline, down his neck, and what bits of skin he can access from the exposed part of his chest thanks to the shirt he is wearing. 

He remembers the first time they kiss. It was after a few cans of beers, and a simple peck turns to something a little less innocent. No words were spoken after their kiss, they just lie down on the floor and let silence lull them to sleep. He woke up the next day alone and cold, and to this day he still pretends that not a single tear fell down his cheeks that morning. They meet again soon enough, because they always fall back to each other. and the man treated him like nothing had happened, so he treated the man just the same. And so they were fine again, until the next time they find themselves sharing a few cans of beer. Like a gravitational force, their lips just lands on each other again. They were a little buzzed, but it was only beer. They were both sober, sober enough to act drunk. Sober enough to act that they’ll blackout tomorrow. Sober enough to act like nothing happened that night. 

The man pulls back, their face now barely an inch away from each other, lips almost touching, chest to chest, hips to hips. They made eye contact and his heart sank, and he feels like screaming. He wants nothing more than to press their lips together but that’t not how they do it. They never kiss, haven’t for the longest time. Even when they’ve done far nastier stuff together because somehow; a kiss feels too pure for their dirtied bodies. So instead he bite the man’s neck and pushed the bodies even closer, hands reaching the man’s pants to pull the waistband down. The man did the same for him, after unbuckling his belt. They pulled their pants down just enough, as if when they’re skin doesn’t actually touch it means this never happened. It’s a stupid thing they hold on to, just like the no actual kissing but he is fine with it, because it makes the next morning slightly better and a whole less awkward. They were just so good at acting.

He remembers the first time their ‘tradition’ started. It was only a few months back, and he hasn’t seen the man for almost three years. He still keeps the man’s number but never contacted him once they were out of college. It was by chance, that he met their mutual friend. She was happy to see him, and apparently everyone has been asking about him. She even made a joke about them thinking if he’s even alive anymore. True, he did just disappear after their graduation but they all had his number, they could’ve called. But he just smiled at her, even when he feels like throwing a chair at her fake smile. They were curious, curious enough to wonder his whereabouts but they didn’t care, didn’t care enough to look for him. Didn’t care enough to actually find out if he’s dead or alive. He smiled at her because this wasn’t new, he was used to the lonely road. He didn’t expect much from their encounter, so he was surprised when a familiar number popped up on his phone’s screen. ‘It’s me. Wanna meet up?’ He re read the simple message a thousand times, filling and refilling his glass with more alcohol. The next thing he knows he was awake with yet another head splitting hangover, and he had apparently sent a reply. ‘Okay.’

He smoked his last cigarette, watching the sun rising outside the window. They man was in the shower, just like every other night that he’d come for a ‘visit’. After they’re done, without even waiting to catch his breath the other man would get up and walk straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Like he just spent the night doing the most disgusting thing, and perhaps he did. He should leave, but him smoking his cigarette while watching the sunrise is another tradition too, and for someone that lives no where near the social norm and the lines of discipline, they were both too scared to try and break their small traditions. The shower stopped, and the man was walking back, only in his boxers. He shamelessly stared at the bruises and marks he left on the other man’s body and a feeling of satisfaction filled him knowing that he have matching marks and bruises on his bodies too. The man will offer his shower, and as tradition goes, he’ll always refuse. Finishing his cigarette, he’d zip up his pants, and buckle his belt in a poor attempt to look tidy. He would walk towards the door and just before he opens it, the man would call his name. ‘Leave your shirt here, I’ll wash it for you.’ And as always he’d open his shirt and leave it there, as the man gave him the last shirt he left there. They both know what it means, come back. The man was just too much of a coward to say it out loud and he is just too much of a coward to push the man. Because he knows, just a little push in the wrong direction, he won’t ever see the man again. 

Just like how he knows the man would walk back into the shower after he leaves and would stay there for hours scrubbing his skin raw. As if by washing himself clean, the acts they did never happened. He knows however that it was the man’s way of coping with things; just like how getting drunk and smoking cigarette are his. By washing himself clean, it’s like him peeling off the mask he have when they’d spend the night together, or rather putting on a mask. So that he’d feel less disgusted with himself when he meets his uptight religious parents. So that he can look at his mom straight in the eye knowing that just the night before he had spent bent over another man. So that he can look at his father in the eye knowing that he’d do it all over again if the man were to just ask. No, the man didn’t even have to say a word. 

It’s fine with him, whatever way the man decides to cope with it. They are nothing exclusive, he don’t have to worry about how the man is doing. Their nights are good, that’s all that matters to him, or so he tells himself. He is fine even if the man would never spend time with him when the sun’s out. He is fine even if the man were to never kiss him the way he used to. He is fine even if the man were to think of him of nothing more than trash. He is fine with just getting drunk and knocking the man’s door at 2am. He is fine with all these because he doesn't have much choice. The man will never love him, not that he’s that great in love anyways. He only knows how to love when he’s drunk and the other man needs to be drunk in order to love him back so it’s fine with him. He keeps telling himself that he is fine with it even when he spends more time drunk than sober. Even when he spends more time dreaming of the other man than not. 

So he finds himself in front of a familiar green door again, as inviting as always at that time of night. He’s buzzed, but sober enough to act drunk; what they’re good at. He knocks, and just like always, the beauty behind the door would look worse than the last time they meet, but just as beautiful as always.


	2. Parting Gift

He hadn’t even knocked yet, but the door was already opened for him. It took him a second to snap out of it, and then he was in the apartment again. They’ve done this for almost two years now, so the guilt just hits the shore of his conscience like gentle waves, and he’d just walk the other way. He took his seat on the couch, and when the other man didn’t join him immediately, like how he would usually do, he turned to look for him. Said man was leaning against the door, looking back at him. He raised an eye brow in confusion, and the man started to walk towards him and sits on his side of the couch without even a word of exchange. He opened one of the cans of beer that he brought and took a sip, before passing it to the other man. They don’t need words, this is how they say hello.

A few empty cans later, he was feeling tipsy enough to push away his pride - or the hallow remains of what’s left of it - and moves to sit on the others lap. He looked down, their faces were only inches apart and a part of him regrets ever meeting this man on the first place, but the other part of him is thanking every god that exists to let him have a taste, even if it’s just a bite. The man looks good today, something about him looks a little less dead than usual, and it’s a pleasant surprise. At least it makes one of them. His heart races a bit faster when the man’s palms holds his waist in place and he can’t help the shiver that ran down his spine because those hands feels like home. He fists his fingers through the strands of the man’s hair, tugging it and the soft grunt that escaped the man’s lips satisfied him. It’s a childish way of a small payback, to cause the man some sort of pain, for making his heart beats a little faster and get’s his hopes up a little higher. Because he knows what will happen next, it’s nothing new. 

But he was caught in a surprise when the man moved his hands from his waist and placed them on his neck. Time stood still and he wasn’t really sure how many seconds, or minutes passed with him just staring at the man with wide eyes. He didn’t dare to even blink, especially when the pair of hands inches up ever so slightly to cup his face as if he is holding the most precious thing in the world. With a brush of his thumbs on his cheeks, the man pulled his face close, closer and closer. The anticipation was killing him, and he finally closed his eyes, half expecting all of this to just be a dream. And then their lips meet, and he knows for sure that his is not dreaming. Because he had dreamed of this moment countless of times, and this is too good to not be real. It’s all he imagined and far more. His hand wrapped around the other man and he gripped the other man harder, pulling him even closer. He finally gets to taste the other man again, after craving it for so long. His mind is telling him to stop, to push the other man away, to ask him what is he doing, to ask for an explanation but at that moment he couldn’t be bothered. Not when the other’s lips taste so sweet. 

When they finally pulled away, a string of saliva connects their parted lips, their lips that are red and swollen. Subconsciously he ran his tongue over his bottom lips, and the metallic taste of blood invaded his taste bud. What a sight they must be right now, with saliva covered lips, drool disgustingly collected at the edge of their mouth, lips red and wounded, hair messed up and clothes wrinkled everywhere, panting like they’ve just ran a marathon. 

‘What the hell was that?’  
“A gift. A parting gift.” 

He was not surprised, he knew someday this moment will come, but he was not ready to hear it. Not when his heart is still beating a thousand miles per hour, not when he is still seated on his lap, body molding like they’re perfectly matched for each other. Not when the other man’s scent is engulfing him whole. Not when he can still taste the other man’s lips. 

‘A parting gift huh? Don’t recall asking for one.’

His heart was beating fast, too fast that it made him feel numb. He looks away, in an attempt of a bitchy eye roll but the tears that started to pool up failed it miserably. Pulling his hands away, he tried to mount himself off of the man, but his hands found it’s rightful place on his waist again and it took the very last bit of his self control, and wounded pride to try and push those hands away but it only made his grip stronger. Strong enough for his skin to burn even when through the layer of clothing separating their skin. 

“The gift was for me.”

And that was good enough for him. Whatever reason, whatever excuse the other man have can wait. Blocking everything from his mind, he just inhales the intoxicating scent of the other man and pulled him for another kiss. They were both hungry for it, pulling each other closer even when there’s no longer space between them. Their breaths got more labored and a sheen of sweat started to stick to their skin. His body threatened to explode inside out because everything - his scent, his warmth, his hands, his moans, his lips, his tongue, his taste, him - combined was almost too much. Almost.

*

An hour later, they were back sitting next to each other on the worn out couch, a cigarette in his hand, none for the other man. They sat in total silence for the past half an hour, him waiting for the other man to explain but not really wanting to listen to it. The other man waiting for him to say something, anything but not really admitting it to himself. As the silence continues, his mind wanders back to the very start of their secret relationship - or whatever fits it best - two years ago, up to the point there are now. 

In the beginning it was just random nights, couple of times a week when he got a little too buzzed and his legs would find it’s own way to the man’s green door. The very first time he did it, the other man opened the door rather begrudgingly but the annoyance plastered on his face was promptly replaced with a look of surprise. The other man barely uttered his name before he pushed his way inside and pushed the other man against the door, closing it shut. He started trailing kisses down the man’s jaw and that’s all he remembered. He woke up the next day to the man gone, his clothes laying around except for the shirt he wore the night before. The second time it happened was a little over a week after the first one. It was almost an exact repeat of the first time but at least then, he remembered every single detail. Then the guilt started to kick in but a couple of months later, he found a way to live with it. No amount of repentance can make him exchange the other man with his conscience. They never talked much, right for the start, always preferred to leave their mouth busy with other things when they’re with each other. 

Lately however, the man would start to refuse his drinks, or his cigarettes. He didn’t think much about it, maybe the other man got tired of pretending, what’s the point anyway when there’s only the two of them in the play? And both of them knows the truth more than well. As long as he is buzzed, as long as he can live with himself, what the other man does doesn’t influence him. But, he should’ve said something, because nothing is ever as straight forward with the man, he should’ve done something because the other man was breaking a rule in their little game. There are also days like today where the man would be waiting for him, he didn’t even have to knock. If he were to admit it, his heart did race a little faster. A part of him felt welcomed, a part of him felt wanted. He knew he shouldn’t, the man is so good with playing around the bush after all and now he’s proven right. It’s never simple with the other man, and he’s stupid enough to believe time after time that it’d ever change. The biggest clue had to be of course when the other man asked him to stop coming on work nights. He said he’s too tired, and he have to work early and just like the fool he is, he just nodded. He should’ve never came back at all. 

A phone’s ring pulled him out of his reverie, and the corner of his eyes followed the other man’s movement as he reached the phone on the table. He noticed the look the other man cast his way after looking at the person calling, so he looked away, inhaling his cigarette, an act to show that he’s minding his own business. Timidly the other man answered the phone, whispering a couple of agreements before whispering that he’d call the person back. The other man put down his phone and finally turned his attention to him. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”  
‘Is there a difference?’  
“Aren’t you curious?”  
‘Does it make a difference?”  
“I met someone.”  
‘Congratulations.’  
“It’s serious with her, I don’t want to mess it up.”  
‘Finally found a heart?’  
“Stop it. Just stop.”

He looked at the hand that is now resting on his thigh, and back up to the owner of that hand, before putting out his cigarette. The hand gripped his thigh, and he suddenly felt like laughing at the irony. At how the exact cause of his pain is trying to console him and he can’t decide what’s worse. The fact that the other man knows that he’s hurting him, or the fact that he is still sitting there, knowing that the other man knows perfectly well that he is hurting, and he’s the cause of it. He sat there quietly, not knowing whats the right word to reply. Not knowing if he should just leave now or beg the man to not leave him. A few seconds turned to a few minutes, and the stillness was killing him. 

‘Well that’s something I haven’t heard you say in a long time.Usually you’d be begging for quite the opposite.’

The other man busted out laughing, and he can’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. After all, he had decided a very long time ago that he liked the sound of the man’s laughter. It’s good to hear it again, it reminds him of the days when they first met, at how easily it was for him to hear it. Sometimes even begged for it to stop. If they’ve spent very little time talking, they’ve spent even lesser time laughing, or even smiling. But they’ve broken almost all the rules at this point anyway, why not break every last one? As a parting gift. He looked up at the other man and was happy to see there’s a lingering smile still plastered on his face after the burst of laughter, and he can’t remember when was the last time the other man actually smiled at him. Without realizing it, he must’ve smiled back because now the other man have a full on grin on his face.

“Pretty sure its you who begs, not me.”  
‘Are you shitting me?’  
“Just admit it.”  
‘I’ll admit to no such lies.’

The last time they bicker was way back in their college days, and there’s an unfamiliar pool of warmth that started to spread in him now that they’re back at it. The other man was still smiling, obviously teasing him but he noticed the sadness behind it. He feels his own smile wavering to, his own sadness threatening to spill out and it’s all too much. He’s so happy he gets to hear the other man’s laugh again but at the same time he wants to cry because he don’t know if he’ll ever hear it again. He wants nothing else but to spend the rest of the night kissing the man but he also wants to ask him millions of question. 

“I guess I’ll just have to refresh your memory then.”

The other man crawled onto him and pulled his face up for a kiss. Slowly his hand moves to cup his face, and he that’s when he lost it. His feelings can wait, tomorrow can wait, the world can wait, everything can wait. But this, this he have been waiting for for years. In just minutes, shirts went flying, hands roaming every possible inch, tongues clashing, warmth consuming him whole, ragged breaths and broken moans filled the room. He felt like they’re both on fire, passion fueling them and the fire was huge and mighty, setting every doubt, every fear they both had, setting all of it on fire. Milking it all out for one last show, before they both turn to ashes. They were burning, almost melting into one. Both of them going at it head first, not stopping. 

Until. Until a phone’s ring pulls them away from each other. Ignoring it, he pulled the other man back to their position before, but the man kissed an apology on his temple, before shuffling away to answer his phone. The man walked out to the balcony, and he knew exactly who was it on the phone. It had to be the girl, the one’s that’s -literally- pulling the man away form him. His roller coaster of emotion continued, as his heart plummeted. The man chose her, over him; mocking him almost. His bitterness was soon replaced with jealousy however as the man haven’t return back after a few minutes. And of course where jealousy exists, ego is there as well and this is as far as his ego lets him. He stood up, wore his shirt, and was going to just leave this hell but he stopped dead in his tracks realizing that this is it, this is the last chance he have. Ego or no ego, this is his last hours with the other man; and hell he were going to waste it because of the girl.

The other man was talking to his girlfriend when he felt a pair of arms circling his waist and he slightly jumped in surprise. He smiled in satisfaction at the other man’s reaction, letting his hand rubs the man’s abdomen, hiding his face at the crook of his neck and leaves wet kisses there. The other man shivered, and was about to push him away but his breath hitched when he felt his neck bitten. He bit his own lips to not make a sound, but he must’ve failed because his girlfriend suddenly stopped talking. Seeing his opportunity, he bit his pulse point hard as he push his hands below the belt and the other man hastily hangs up before melting back to him, his head falling back, giving the man more excess. A loud sigh escaped the other man’s lips as he continued to leave bite marks everywhere, marking him in spite, to leave a little part of him even when they’re not together. The other man pulled away then, and dragged him straight to the bedroom, and pushed him on the bed. This is the first time he ever lay on the bed, but his mind was too busy occupied with the way the other man was staring at him darkly to think about details. With a smirk, he unbuckled his belt and shamelessly stared at the other man that was still standing at the foot of the bed.

‘Well, wasn’t it you who said something about refreshing my memory?’


	3. Addicted

5 hours later x

‘How long have you been seeing her?’  
“Almost half a year now.”  
‘So what changed?’  
“I’m marrying her.”  
‘Does she know you’re gay?’  
“Don’t.”  
‘Ah, that’s right. You’re not gay. Sorry, I forgot. Kinda hard not to when you spend the nights with your mouth on my-’  
“That’s different.”  
‘Am I that special? Didn’t know you were the sentimental type.’  
“You know what I mean.”  
‘No, actually I don’t. It’s either you like men or you like women, or both even but there’s no such thing as you only like women, except for my body.’  
“I’m not gay!”  
‘Oh, for fuck sake wake up, you asshole! Who the fuck are you trying to kid?’

 

10 hours later x

He left the other man’s apartment a little over noon. The man watched him leave, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t walk a tad slower. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish the other man would stop him, pull him back for a hug. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t hope that the man would call out his name. But he’d never admit it though, for he still have his pride, or so he wishes. Though he’d never admit it, he’d be lying if he say he wouldn’t run back in a heartbeat if the man had just called his name, or even hinted at the fact that he wants him. But the man did no such thing, so with heavy footsteps, he walked away form the green door. For the sake of his pride, he didn’t even turn to look back, and he’s quite proud of that. As if that little self control means anything after all this time, but to him it’s a fresh start. The start of him having self control, to never return to the man, to never return where he’s never welcomed.

 

5 days later x

“What are you doing here?”  
‘You can’t- I- We just- It’s unfair, I can’t just-’  
“I told you we can’t do this anymore, please leave.”  
‘Let me in, please. Just tonight, please... I-’

“Who’s that honey?”

“Uh, no one babe. Don’t worry bout it.”  
‘She’s here? Of course she’s here...’

 

10 days later x

After that night, he never returned. To the green door at least, somehow his feet still managed to find their own way to the other man’s neighborhood. From the park, he’d sit and watch the other man’s apartment until the sun rises before he walk back home and fall on his bed with tears streaking his face. He spent nights getting drunk and mornings skipping work, in favor of sleeping his hangovers away. He’d wake up, to an angry voice mail form his manager, demanding his presence at work but no messages, no calls from the one he wanted the most. When even the angry the voice mails stopped coming, he just assumed he’s no longer welcomed at work. Then it hits him, that no one welcomes him, not even work. His presence is only bearable, not essential. He could disappear in a second and no one would know, or care, let alone miss him. And he drank to that. 

 

5 weeks later x 

Private Number : Stop calling me.  
You : I just need to see you once  
more   
Private Number : I’ve changed my number,   
please don’t show up   
anymore.  
You : Please, we can make it   
work, she won’t have to   
find out   
You : Babe, please?   
You : Just hear me out.   
You : Don’t do this.   
You : Please..   
You : I’m begging you, please....

15 weeks later x

His begging got even worse over the weeks. He threw away his pride, his ego along with his soberness; his sanity halfway out the door. After a few weeks of not returning to the green door, he broke all his restraints and ran there. She was there, of course she was there but he managed to see the other man. The other man pulled him away hurriedly, dragged him to the park but at that moment he couldn’t make himself feel ashamed that he’s being dragged like a dog. He was just so happy that he finally saw the other man again. The second the other man let go of his hand, he pulled the other man for a hug, and was glad he didn’t resist. Maybe it was pity, but at that moment he really couldn’t care less what it is, or how he looks like. Because after a couple of months he finally saw the man again. So he tried his luck and pulled the other man for a kiss, but just like the hug the man stayed unresponsive. He started crying, with his face hidden in the crook of the other man’s neck. He started hitting the other man, calling him names and cursing him for making him feel so miserable. But the man remained unresponsive. 

5 months later x

‘Another shot please.’  
“Sir, you’re drunk, is there-”  
‘I said, another damn shot. Hurry the fuck up.’  
“Right away.”

10 months later x 

It wasn’t the fastest, or healthiest way, but he managed to finally get the other man out of his train of thoughts. It took a him a near death experience, and a phone call. It was a couple of months back, where he had just woken up to an angry hangover, and an empty fridge. Begrudgingly, he made himself look somewhat decent and made his way to the nearest mini market to get some food. It was a good five minutes walk, which gave him crisp morning air that eased a bit of his headache away. After buying some instant food, and a packet of painkillers, he shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie in an attempt to warm himself up and hurriedly left the mini market. His head was cast down, hugging himself, trying to make himself smaller in an attempt to stay warmer; so he did not see the red pedestrian light, blinking it’s warning. What made him looked up was the sudden loud sound of collision, and he stood in shock at the sight. A couple of girls was lying in their own pool of blood, as the driver that hit them sped off. He then dropped the bag he was carrying and ran to look at them, but it was too late. He stayed there motionless, staring at the face of the two girls that are just his age, but now never going to grow older. 

*rings*

“Hel-”  
‘It’s me.’  
“I’m hanging up th-”  
‘Wait just listen! One question. Then I’ll stop, for good.’  
“Are you drunk?”  
‘Don’t act like you care, fuck- just answer me one question. Please.’  
“What is it?”  
‘If I... No, when I... When I die, will you miss me?’  
“What?”  
‘Will you miss me godammit? If I’m dead, will you miss me?’  
“...”  
“Uh... Wait, are yo-”  
‘I’m not jumping off a building for gods sake, it’s just a question.’  
“...”  
‘Huh, you won’t.’  
“I didn’t say that.”  
‘No shit, you didn’t say anything.’  
“I will... Of course I will.”  
‘Miss me, or my body?’  
“Is there a difference, really?”  
‘So it’s just my body huh.’  
“I will miss you.”  
‘Goodbye you fucking bastard.’

1 year later x

The accident made him stopped drinking. For weeks the face of the two girls wouldn’t leave his mind, his conscience weighing heavily knowing that he is wasting his life away. It made him throw away all of his stuff, and it made him drag his ass to beg his manager to give him his old job back. He went to see his manager every single day and would wait outside even in the rain, and finally he got his job back. - It wasn’t anything fancy, and pretty boring considering it’s an old art gallery but it pays the bill. Without half the work that would entail him if he were to work in the service industry- It made him think about living, the meaning of death and it made him to start recollecting his life. It forced him into a fresh, new start. 

He even managed to smile when an old couple entered the gallery hand in hand, walking slower than a tortoise but even from far away he could feel their love radiating. It made his heart pang a little, wanting that for himself but the good outweighs the bad. How could you not smile after all, when the two couple are smiling so wide, as if they were still teenagers sneaking out for their first date. The couple would come every week, buying something back every time and naturally, they started having conversations. He smiled wider at this, a feeling of goodness spreading through his chest because he’s having such lovely human interactions after so long. He don’t talk much, prefer listening to their stories, but whenever he opens his mouth, they’d listen so carefully, knowing that they actually do care for what he talks about, that - if he were really honest - it’d made him tear up a little. 

 

1 year 2 months later x

“I tried calling, but you changed your number. I waited a while, but you didn’t come back. I don’t even know if you still live here but if you get this message, call me. Come and see me x “

He read and re-read the post-it-note that was on his door when he reached home, not knowing quite what to feel. Even without any names, he knows who it is. He started to feel angry, feeling like the world is laughing at him, mocking him. He finally - fucking finally - managed to let a week pass by without thinking about the man, and now he wants to see him? Surely, surely there must be something in the universe that wouldn’t allow such atrocity. But the universe is never fair, quite condescending actually. His anger then turned to sorrow as the other man invades his mind. He missed him, though he denies it. He missed the other man, for whatever reason and this note made him feel a spark of happiness. 

“I’ll be waiting at the park, I’ll wait till you show up. I miss you x “

The second note didn’t make him feel angry, it made him feel sick. He ran to the toilet and vomited out what food he had for dinner with his manager. He snorted at the irony, at how his manager was buying him dinner to congratulate him for sobering up. Telling him that he never looked better, and how he is glad that he is getting his life back on track. He sat there for a couple of hours, trying to control himself from finding his way tot he park. His mind is blaring warning signs, going over all the obvious reason as to why he shouldn’t go to see the man but his hearts aches, wanting nothing more than to embrace the other man again, a sense of urgency that he didn’t even know inside him anymore. How cruel, how just a few words on a dirty paper written by the man could turn him into something so weak. 

“Please.”

He was proud of himself for not going to the park, and he had nothing else to thanks but the weariness of his body that made him fall asleep on the bathroom tiles that night. He didn’t want to think about what he would’ve had done if he was awake for a couple of hours more. Surely, he would’ve broke his resolve and went running to the man, so he was thankful to wake up the next morning just in time for work. An excuse he uses to try and brush his heart ache away. As guilt creeps in, he felt betrayed by his own mind because a part of him - the sensible part of him - knows that the other man deserve nothing less, after all that he put him through. So he was proud of himself, for not going.

So when the third note came, with just one word on it, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Without even thinking about it, he just willed his mind shut as his body takes him to the park. He managed to keep his mind blank, and his heart steady; as if every part of him had turned numb and it’s just moving thanks to muscle memory. He didn’t know how to prepare himself, for he don’t really know what to expect. So he was not ready at all, when he saw the other man slumped on the bench, still looking like a million bucks. The man looked up and they stared at each other, both examining the other, taking in all the small changes. He stared right into the other man’s eyes as it gets bigger and bigger, the closer the other man comes. Then he can see nothing but the other man’s dark orbs, just inches away from his. 

“Hey.”  
‘What do you want?’  
“I miss you.”  
‘What. Do. You. Want?”

He glares at the other man, building up a facade of something strong. He have to, for the sake of how independent he got in the past couple of months. 

‘Let’s go for a drink? Or just come over sometime.”  
‘You have a girlfriend.’  
“That don’t matter to you, remember?”  
‘Well it matters now.’  
“Come on, please.”

He took a step back, and took a deep breath in, giving himself a pat in the back at how calmly he is taking this situation. At how he didn’t just pulled the other man for a kiss and the world be damned, because that is all he want to do at that moment. But he changed, he remind himself that he can’t go back to how he was before. Living by the day, not a care in the world, not caring about how he affects himself, and others.

‘Choose.’  
“What?”  
‘It’s me. Or her. And it has to be official, not just dirty little secret. You choose.  
“You know I can’t.”  
‘Then I have nothing more to say.’

He turned around and blink the tears away. Quickly he started to walk away, ignoring the other man’s call for his name. 

“Are you seriously asking me to choose between you two? What are we, high school students?”  
“Wait!”  
“Shit- I take that back, sorry!”  
“Babe! I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean it that way!”

The other man managed to catch up to him and yank his arm, reeling him back so they’re face to face again.

“Baby, please. I missed you.”  
‘Me? Or my body?’  
“You. All of you.”

He know he shouldn’t. He know this are all lies, sweet words to take him back but that’s enough. The other man never bothered with sweet words, he never bothered to try and make him stay. The other man never beg him to stay, never apologize for not loving him back and now he is. He feels his facade crumbling down, and the other man is inching closer and closer, and that is when he sees it. The desperate look on the other man, the look that he knows so well, cause he used to look at the mirror everyday to see it staring back at him. And that’s when he realized that the other man is addicted. It’s not about missing him, the other man is just relapsing. 

And their lips met, and the other man groaned, finally getting to taste the sweet craving he had. The other man pulled him for a tight hug, hand reaching up the pull his hair, pulling his head back and he moves his mouth down his jaw, down his neck. His body is shaking, from the cold, the excitement, the anger. He stares at the moon, his consciousness slowly slipping away, though it gave a fight, telling him that he should walk away. That this is wrong, extremely wrong. But if the other man is addicted, then he is having withdrawals. And god knows he’d rather die from an overdose than from a withdrawal. 

So he close his eyes and let his other senses control him, and focuses on that instead. Focuses at how the other man’s breath feels against his skin, at how the other man’s smallest whimpers can be heard mixing with his own, at how he can taste the other man as they kiss, at how he can smell the all too familiar scent of the other man’s cologne clouding his judgment all over again. And that’s how he find himself entering the green door again. Being roughly slammed against the wall but he couldn’t care less, not when he can feel the man’s front against his back, not when he can hear the man’s voice whispering sweet nothings and things not quite as innocent - both sounds very promising, but he knows the man only meant to fulfill the latter - into his ears and especially not when the other man turned him around and hoisted his legs up around his hips. He couldn’t care less, for the night at least. And for the umpteenth time, he left everything for the tomorrow him to handle. For the umpteenth time he convinced himself that the world could wait, the universe could wait, his conscience could wait - for tomorrow. Because right now - even when a heads on collision is immanent - they’re moving too fast to stop. They’re going to crash and burn, but it’s too late to stop now. The wheels had been set in motion too many years ago, that a collision is inevitable.


	4. Grief

**Denial**  
   
He woke up the next morning in the bed, with marks all over his body and stains all over the sheets. Quickly, he looked around for his clothes but they were nowhere to be found, so begrudgingly, he exited the room into the cold living room with nothing on. There was a note on the dining table, with some food prepared.

_‘Your clothes are in the washing, hang them when they’re done. I prepared food so eat, and wait for them to dry.’_

He crumpled up the paper, and threw it away, before going to the bathroom.  As he made his way there, he took a careful look around the apartment and noticed that nothing much had changed, but at the same time it wasn’t the same anymore. Maybe it is just his mind playing tricks with him, but he could almost see the other man’s faceless lover walking in front of him, following him from the back, walking by his side; he can almost see the girl watching him with mocking eyes – and he can’t stand it.  He stared at the couch, and wondered if the other man had spent drunken nights with her there, like he had with him. His eyes moved towards the carpeted floor next to it, and wondered if she had lain there on her hands and knees like he had.  Slowly, he could feel bile rising up his throat, but his eyes continued to the dining table, and he can’t help but to wonder if the other man had held her there, he wondered if she has had to grip the table so tight until her knuckles turn white, like he did.

The next thing he knows he was bent over the toilet bowl, vomiting out what little food he ate the night before. He blocks the girl out of his head, and instead tried to focus on not fainting. He can feel the slight buzz under his skin, the kind that he’d get before a full blown panic attack hits him. So he took a few deep breaths and crawled to the sink, gripping the bowl and pulled himself up.  The reflection in the mirror stares at him, and he stared back at every little mark on his body, every little bruises and scratch; the remainder of the night before. He makes a line with them, connecting them one by one, thinking about how each one was formed.  As the images plays in his head, he assures – lies – to himself that the other man only does this to him. That he is special, at least more than the girl. Reassuring himself that that is obviously the reason as to why the man called him back. The thought settled in his mind, and he doesn’t know whether to feel happy or disgusted with himself.  
   
                 
**Anger**  
   
He took a quick shower, and put on some of the other man’s clothes. After eating the food prepared for him, he made sure to wash the dishes before sinking on the couch and flipped the television on. He wasn’t really paying attention to what the actors are saying, the sound the television makes are more like a quiet hum on the background for him. He was still wondering if he is happy, or disgusted and he can’t seem to pin it down. Seeing the man stirred up old emotions, and it was heaven to be held by the other man again but the other part of him keep screaming that it shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t feel happy to see the other man again; he shouldn’t let his heart race when the other man held his hips so hard that it bruises. He should be disgusted with himself.

A stray tear rolled down his cheek at the thought of that, because he don’t want to feel disgusted, he just wants to be happy. So the internal battle continued until he got frustrated with himself and feels anger slowly clawing up inside of him. Anger towards the other man, for stringing him along, anger at himself for taking ten steps back after the hard year he spent on moving on, anger at the girl for just existing, anger at everyone that made the other man so afraid, anger at everyone that made it impossible for him to be happy and anger to the world for accepting this a s the norm. He then started crying angry sobs, letting all his frustrations out at how unfair the world is, at how pathetic they could make a man and at how he let himself to take fall for the other man.  
                 
   
**Bargaining**  
   
 _“I’m home.”_  
 _‘Hey.’_  
 _“I bought you some of those disgusting cookies that you like.”_  
 _‘You obviously just haven’t tried them before.’_  
 _“You kidding me? Second year, you fed me a whole box of that and I got so sick I_ _was practically bed ridden.”_  
 _‘You were in bed because you’re a lazy ass, not the cookies. Don’t you dare blame my cookies.’_  
 _“I missed an important assessment that day.”_  
 _‘Which I stayed up the night after, spent on writing it for you.’_

 

He was helping the other man arrange the groceries, as they shared this little memory that happened almost a decade ago and he can’t help the smile that crept up his face at the thought of it, and he’d be lying if he said the smile didn’t grew a tiny bit bigger when he saw that the other man had a smile on his face too. The ugly feeling creeps up on him again, reminding him the hundreds of reasons why he shouldn’t feel happy, but disgusted instead.  But standing there, arranging groceries like a married couple - despite the irony - he couldn’t help but to feel happy, to feel hopeful. When the man gave him the cookies he can’t help the happiness that grew in him, because the other man still remembers that they’re his favorites.  Perhaps the man remembers all the things as well? Maybe it wasn’t as one sided as he thought it was.

_“I got C.”_   
_‘Hmm?’_   
_“For the assessment, I got a C. I had to repeat that class, during summer break. Summer. Break.”_   
_‘If it wasn’t for my sorry ass, you’d repeat the entire semester.’_   
_“That’s beside the point, I missed a whole summer in college.”_   
_‘I don’t recall you complaining when you barge in my room drunk every other night.’_   
_“I don’t recall you complaining either.”_

He snorted his smile away but failed at hiding it completely when he heard the other man’s laugh filled the small kitchen. The other man then bumped his shoulder and when he looked to met him in the eye, he himself let out a laugh when the other man wiggled his eyebrows. The warm feeling he once thought he couldn’t get back started seeping in his veins again, spreading throughout his body. And when the other man started leaning in, and pushing him to the wall, he couldn’t help but think how natural this is for them, even when he knows it’s not natural at all. But when the other man closes his eyes, and inching in closer and closer until their lips touch, he thought maybe they could start small. They just stood there, kissing each other softly, the seconds, minutes passing away like small trickles of rain on the rooftop. Whenever it gets a little too heated, they’d pull back before leaning in again, keeping it as gentle as possible.

_“You smell like me.”_   
_‘I don’t even want to know why you’re using pomegranate flavoured shower gel.’_   
_“Scented you idiot, not flavoured.”_   
_‘Still gay as fuck.’_   
_“You still used it though.”_   
_‘Well it’s that or the lemon scented soap isn’t it? I don’t think I’d want to walk around smelling like lemon.’_   
_“You’d smell good either way, cause you’d smell like me.”_   
_‘I’m not a bark you can pee on to make me smell like you.’_   
_“Did you just call me a dog?”_   
_‘Woof.’_

The other man rolled his eyes but laughed anyway, before leaning in for another kiss, and another, and another. It indeed became heated, a little too much of tongue and teeth and bites. Soon the other man’s leg is pushed up between his and his breath is getting more labored, pushing himself down as the man nips down his jawline, to his neck before biting his collarbone. He pushed his hand up the other man’s chest, before pulling it back down and pushing it up his back, pulling him closer. Two shirts and one pants on the floor later, his legs are now wrapped around the other man’s waist, and they are making their way to the bedroom, stopping on walls on the way for one too many make out sessions. And if something a little more happened before they managed to reach the bedroom, it needn’t to be brought up.

   
**Depression**  
   
He woke up to an empty bed and a horrible feeling settling in his gut. The things that happened last night hit him like bricks out of nowhere and suddenly he felt disgusted. The room felt too stuffed for him, and the world seems to be crumbling right underneath him. The past year, the progress that he made just disappeared and he’s back to square one, and he never felt so angry and disappointed at himself. Escape, his mind and body is screaming for an escape, he needs to get out there immediately. He needs to get away from this hellhole that he had dug his way out of. He needs to get away before yesterday repeats itself, before he lets himself to get fooled again. To get fooled into thinking that this might just work. So he got off bed, and threw on whatever shirt and pants he could find, trying his hardest not to spare a glance a little too long at corner of the apartment.  
   
He ran out of the door, without even shutting it close with tears already falling down his cheeks. His legs are shaking, and his lungs burn but he didn’t stop running, so scared that he’d turn around and walk back there. The other man is equally his addiction he realized, as he is the other man’s. One of them had to stop this before they both OD. So he ran, he ran as fast as his legs would take him and when he finally reached his own door, he opened it and immediately crashed right in front of the doorstep, his legs giving away. In the vicinity of his own home, he started to cry. His lungs still burns and his heart threatens to explode, layers of sweat sticking to his skin and his face was covered with tears. He cried until his mind turned numb, willing the night before to just disappear because he knows what’s going to happen.  
   
Even though he ran as fast as he could, even when he keeps telling himself to not look back. He’s just been in this position too many times before, and he cried at that fact. He cried at the fact that he is back in the palm of the other man, even when his whole being is screaming at him not to be so weak. The other man controls him like a puppet and even the last year was the will of the other man. If he hadn’t pushed him away, again and again he wouldn’t make it this far. It always had been that man, no matter how he tried to run away, turns a blind eye; he’ll always fall back to the other man.  
   
  
**Acceptance**  
  
_“Where were you?”_  
 _‘You know where.’_  
 _“When did you-”_  
 _‘Cut the bullshit and just ask me already. You know you’ve always sucked at small talks anyway.’_  
 _“Why... Why are you back here?”_  
 _‘You know the answer to that too asshole.’_  
   
Without waiting for the other man to reply, he pushed his way in and hugged the other man, resting his face against the crook of the other man’s neck. The other man hugged him back, before leaving a peck on his lips, cheeks, chin, every inch of skin on his face. The other man leaves kisses like he meant them, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell the other man he’s a horrible actor so he just hugged him a little tighter, letting himself to be kissed over and over again. They made their way to the couch, with him hovering over the other man, still sharing kisses, before he just sunk in and rested his head on the other man’s chest.  
   
   “I thought you weren’t coming back.” The man said, staring at the head of hair that’s currently on his chest.  
 ‘Wasn’t planning to, really.’ He replied, and shifted his body slightly, - careful not to elbow the other man by accident - so that he is able to look up at the man.  
   “Mhm.” The other man hummed softly, running his hand through the strands of his hair.  
 ‘Where is she?’ He asks, after a couple of minutes.  
   “You suck at small talks too, you know.” He snorted, before replying.  
 ‘I’m not planning to be your best man at your wedding or anything, I just don’t want her to come in and see her fiancé ramming into another guy.’  
   “Always know the best way to sugar coat things, don’t you?’ He didn’t reply to that, so the other man continued after a while. “She’s out of town, told her I needed time off.”  
 ‘Time off for?’ Now he is staring right into the other man’s eye.  
   “Now which one of us is asking questions that they already know the answer to?” A small smirk made it’s way on the other man’s lips as he grunted when he felt his hair pulled a little.  
 ‘I may have stepped to the lowest of low but I refuse to be your side bitch, just reminding you that.’ He said it with an air of authority, but they both it won’t take much for him to actually do so.  
   “No one’s asking you to, idiot.” The other man pulled his hair up, and kissed him softly. You don’t even have to ask, he thought to himself.  
   
   
 **Denial**  
   
   _“You can stay a little longer.”_ The other man hugged his waist when he tried to get up from the bed.  
  _‘She’s coming back today.’_ He replied with an eye roll, and pushed the man back to the bed.  
   _“Just a little longer.”_ Now the other man grabbed his wrist, making him turn around with an intent to glare at him.  
  _‘I’ve spent the last three days here and we barely moved from this smelly bed.’_ He replied, scrunching his nose up.  
  _“You love this smelly bed. So come back on it.”_ The other man replied, patting the space next to him, with a glint in his eyes.  
  _‘Hmm, it’s just my body after all huh?’_ He asked, with an eyebrow raised, urging his smile to not pop out.  
   _“It always had been babe.”_ The smile faltered, and his heart pang a little at the other man’s reply but a pair of familiar lips was on his again, and everything was fine when the other man whispered. _“Only yours.”_  
   
   
**Anger**  
   
They were leaning against the door, the other man leaving kisses all over his face, and down his throat, with him lolling his head to the side to give the man more access. The other man had a tight grip on his waist, trying to keep him there as long as possible and who is he to refuse that? He himself is tugging on the other man’s shirt like his life depended on it. He said he’s leaving three hours ago but actually managed to crawl out of bed an hour later. After an interrupted - and thus extended - shower, he finally managed to get some clothes on both of them before making his way to the door. But somehow, he find himself in the same position again, because the man insisted on a peck goodbye, but cheated when his tongue traced his lower lips.  
   
But both of them were cut out from their reverie when someone knocked on the door. They stood there, staring at each other, not moving an inch. The short three seconds before the second knock came felt like years for him. The past three days flashes back in front of his eyes and his heart plunged. He’s not yet ready to let it go, he’s not ready to let this sweet man revert back to the bitter one the world had molded. There’s still too many things he haven’t said, so many things he still want to do with the man. There are still too many questions running in their head, decisions to be made and answers to be confronted. The past three days had been so blissful, just them in their own little world, that none of them were ready to step out of yet. But when the second knock came, they snapped out of it, and tried their best to smooth out their hair, and wipe off their saliva.  
   
The other man opened the door, and was surprised to see someone else was with the girl, it was his mom. Watching the two ladies walked in, that’s when he realized that he is not in the land of dreams anymore, the land he shared with the other man. He didn’t know what he expected, but bile rose up his throat and the hot feelings of anger consumes whatever bliss he felt earlier. Without a word, he pushed his way out of the door, ignoring the bewildered look on the two females, and the broken one on the other man. He should’ve left earlier, he told himself, and then he decided that he shouldn’t have come at all. But he knows it’s pointless because even if he can turn back time, he knows he’d probably do the same thing again, and get his heart broken again, and again. So the anger dissipates into something less red, and into something bluer. A little too blue, he decided when tears started to roll down his cheeks. He thought he’d be angry at the other man, or at least that’s what he wanted. But it’s not anger he felt for the other man. To be honest, it was never anger he felt for the other man, its sorrow. Melancholy had always been a constant in their relationship, right from the very beginning.  
 

 **Bargaining**  
  
_Maybe they’ll eventually end up together. Maybe when they’re in their fifties, and they would have just started to bald. Maybe they’ll run into each other by coincidence, and maybe they’d start talking again just like they did many years back. Maybe then, melancholy would’ve found something else to latch its awful claws on. Maybe he himself would’ve found someone new by then, and maybe they’d break up too, because some things are just not mean to be together, and some not meant to be apart._  
  
 _Maybe the world has decided by then to stop being cruel to him, and let him have what he had always wanted. Maybe the other man would finally be brave enough to walk the earth without the awful mask that he’s been wearing his whole life. Maybe then, they’d be able to hold hands while walking down the street without stares stabbing at them from every direction. Maybe when the other man kisses him, he’d actually meant the sincerity behind it and maybe by then, he’d finally found a way to stop crying over the man._  
  
 _Maybe they’d stay together into their late eighties, their mornings filled with trips  to the coffee shop, lunches spent together and evenings reserved for short walks around their neighborhood. Maybe they’d even adopt a dog, just for extra company.  And maybe that dog would interrupt them when they’d cuddle up on the couch at night. Maybe they’d even go on trips together; maybe by then he’d finally be able to buy the stupid Ford he’d been eyeing since college.  Maybe they’d huddle up in front of the campfire and just maybe, one day, they’d be able to look back and instead of tears they’d share smiles instead; as bittersweet as they may be._  
 

 **Depression**  
   
It was four months later that he received the wedding invitation. In those four months, he made no contact with the other man; in fact he spent half of it back at his hometown. There was no one to welcome him of course, but he still decided to visit their graves. Bought dozens and dozens of roses, trying to make up for lost times. And as he sat there, next to his parents, he can’t help but to think out loud whether they’d be proud if they could see him now. He wondered if they’d accepted him for who he is, or would they be like the other man’s parents, shoves it under the rug and threatened the poor man to never even think about it again. After an hour or so of self-pity, he was assured that it doesn’t matter anyways, because they’re not here. Whatever they would feel, it wouldn’t matter. And he never returned to the gravesite again.

He even made a visit to the college he used to share with the man, and at the sight of their old dorm, he can’t help but smile as memories after memories of two stupid college boys entered his mind. But like always, his smile quickly fades away when the memories are wiped away and replaced with bitter ones. Like that one time he cried so hard after seeing other man kissing a girl. Or that time he hated himself so much for letting the other man uses him whenever he want to; and even more so because he actually liked it. Familiar faces of old friends flood in his mind, some supportive and some judgmental, not that it mattered. It has been too long since he saw any of them. He also took walks at the beach he’d sneaked out to at night when everything just gets too hard for him. The other man somehow managed to find that place, and would often console him, but it was out of pity and the day he saw the other man with another woman there, it just proves it even more.

He went and sits on the very rock that used to be his solitude, before that incident of course, because after that, he never made his way to the beach ever again. He spent a couple of hours there, until the bright rays of sunlight is gone and replaced by the mellower light of the moon.  There as names carved on the rocks and absent mindedly he reads them, some had stupid messages of love – and he can’t help but to wonder how many of these couples ‘4ever’ had actually lasted until now – and some that are just curse words courtesy of college boys. But one caught his attention, it was his name in a heart with the other man’s name but he could’ve sworn he never carved it there. His lips twitch in slight amusement thinking, there must’ve been someone else with his name that’s having a completely different love life that his.  
So a couple of months later, when he’s standing in front of the door, reading and re-reading the wedding invitation over and over again,  he just hopes whoever those kids are, -the kids that shares their name - that they are happy; or at least happier than them.  
 

 **Acceptance**  
   
The other man looked amazing, suit tailored to perfection, hair styled to perfection, and everything was just perfect on him. He thought he’d be upset at the sight of the bride, walking down the aisle with her white gown and long curly hair. He thought he’d be jealous that it is not him holding the bouquet but he didn’t even notice all that because his eyes were staring straight at the man in front. He himself looked pretty presentable tonight, he’s wearing a suit that he kept for job interviews – that are long forgotten now- and though it might be a little too loose now, it still looks good.  He took a sit right at the back, trying to hide himself as discreet as possible and he didn’t know why he did that, he just didn’t want the other man to see him which is stupid, since he was invited to the wedding.  
                 
His decision must’ve been correct however because later during the reception, the other man almost dropped the glass of champagne he was holding at the sight of him.

_‘You look like you just saw a ghost.’_   
_“Uh…”_   
_‘It’s just me dumbass.’_   
_“How did you… I mean why, uh…”_   
_‘You did send me an invitation, remember?’_   
_“Invita- Oh my god, it must’ve been my mom.  I would never, I swear-“_   
_‘Wow, cat got your tongue?’_   
_“She saw you and she remembered you then she was asking all these questions, I should’ve known, really-“_   
_‘Calm down, would you… You should be blushing at your bride, not me.’_

The man’s face was still flushed, obviously surprised at the sight of him and to be honest a part of hi felt relieved. When he first saw the invitation, he actually was really upset, how could he send one knowing full well what it’d do to him? Then he convinced himself, that the other man just wanted to see him again. Looking at how flushed the other man is, he knows it’s not that but he still feels glad at how surprised the other man was. He still cared for him, at least how he’d feel.

 _“I’m sorry.”_  
 _‘Hmm? For what?’_  
 _“For, you know…”_  
 _‘It’s my decision to come; you don’t have to feel so bad. Plus I was wondering if you would shave that awful stubble you started growing. You did, luckily.’_  
 _“You liked the stubble.”_  
 _‘Girl’s skin are softer though, wouldn’t want her to get friction burns would you.’_  
 _“Where were you?”_  
 _‘You looked for me? Why?’_  
 _“Wanted to see you.”_  
 _‘Liar.’_  
 _“I did.”_  
 _‘Why, did you miss me?’_  
 _“I did.”_  
 _‘Don’t lie.’_  
 _“I did, and I will.”_  
 _‘Stop lying, you should know better. You’re gonna start having kids soon enough.’_  
 _“I’m sorry.”_  
 _‘For the billionth time-‘_  
 _“For everything. I’m sorry for everything.”_  
 _‘It’s really bad to lie.’_  
                 
The groom was ushered away, before he managed to reply. His heart was surprisingly calm, even though he was not quite ready to say goodbye yet. The other man had always been an awful liar but for once, for once he looked so sincere that it took him by surprise. He wasn’t sad or mad, in fact, he felt completely numb. He was proud of himself really, to be able to walk in here and looked at them and talked to him with a straight face, he wouldn’t be able to a couple of years back but he changed. Even when he fell back to the other man time and again, he really did become stronger, to an extent. And what he realized is that, every time he gets away from the other man, he did grew a little bit stronger. It was a late realization of course, but he’s glad he realized it anyways. Because a couple of decades from now, when they meet again in their fifties, he needs to be strong enough to carry the both of them. So as he left the hall, he can’t help but to smile, - even if there’s a layer of sadness tinting it; proud of himself - and can’t help but to look forward to the next time he’d see the man again.

_‘I’ll see you.’_


	5. Apologies

          I still remember the day we met, my first impression of you never really left my memory even though it happened so long ago. You were definitely quiet, in fact I can’t help but to wonder how our world could even collide, meeting someone that is so different from my own extroverted loud self. Maybe what you had said had been true all along, we were fated to meet each other. As a lesson? A cruel cosmic joke or perhaps life had just expected better out of me, well what can I say? I’m a great actor, with a million masks I can change into.

 

*****

 

 “I didn’t know you can paint.” I started the conversation. I did though, I’ve even seen you with paint all over your shirt but it was the only question I could’ve think of at that time, so I couldn’t blame you for the weird look you gave me.

'Um, I’m a fine arts student.’

“Oh right. Right, you told me that when we met, of course.” I stammered, quickly getting flustered.

‘You’re a photographer, right? So what are you doing here?’ You asked, and I tried my best not to smile at how blunt you were.

“You do know photographers have exhibitions on galleries too, right?” I chuckled, and your frown deepened. Then you pointed to my left.

‘Fine Arts Exhibition’

“Oh.” If I wasn’t fully red before, I sure was at that point.

‘I know. But I think you’re at the wrong gallery.’ You replied curtly, and turned around before I can say anything else. I contemplated on following you, but decided not to be a creep, so I walked around the gallery by myself.

‘Here.’ I turned around so quickly at your voice, I could’ve gotten a whiplash.

“What?” You then handed me a flier before you walked away again. It was for another gallery that was having an exhibition for photographers.

“I was just going around for some inspiration! I know this gallery is- “I yelled after you but someone shushed me off. I bowed an apology and tried to run after the man but the last thing I saw were you staring at me, few feet away with a slight amusement on your face, and the cutest smirk I’ve seen.

 

*****

 

“Hey, I wanted to say thanks for the flier, I went to the gallery by the way. It was nice.”

‘The gallery is only opening next month though.’

“Oh.”

 

*****

 

          I noticed it for a few times now, where you’d suddenly go missing in the middle of a party, or just a barbeque. At first, I thought you’d just go home early, and I to be honest I wouldn’t hold it against you, considering how quiet you are but one night, I decided to follow you when you disappeared out of the party your own roommate had thrown. Turns out, you’d go to the beach not too far from the dorms, it’s still a good twenty to thirty minutes’ walk however, and since there’s no clear route for any car to pass through no one really goes there. I followed you a couple of times, but on the third one, I finally decided to say something, no longer wanting to feel like a stalker.

“Hey.” I would have laughed at how huge your eyes had gotten at the sight of me, but the tears that brimmed it stopped me.

“You okay, there?” You still said nothing, so I made my way towards you.

‘What are you doing here?’ You asked, voice a little cracked.

“You really think no one would’ve noticed how you go missing at every party?” And I gave you a cheesy wink, but the slight blush that adorned your cheeks was something I didn’t expect.

‘That still doesn’t answer the question.’ You replied, pulling a cigarette out.

“I can leave if you want to.” I replied, sensing that I probably had invaded your alone time, but he turned to look at me and offered me a cigarette, so I take it as he wanting me to stay instead. “Nah, I don’t smoke. You shouldn’t too by the way, it’s bad for you.”

‘I don’t really smoke, it’s a once in a blue moon thing.’

“So what is so special about today?”

‘Nothing really, just felt a little sad.’

“So you smoke when you’re sad?”

‘Yeah, you can say that.’

“If I make you laugh, will you throw that away then? And eating cookies will make you way happier, I promise.” I offered you one, and you took it before nodding.

‘Sure.’

          I made a few jokes but you were not impressed, in fact I made your frown deepen. You threw away the cigarette anyway, and told me to try harder next time with a slight pout, which made me smile. Then I burst out laughing at how ironic it is, when I was the one that was supposed to make you laugh, not the other way around. You pouted even more when I laughed and I can’t help but to notice how adorable you looked, thought adorable would be the last word anyone would’ve used to describe you.

‘This cookie sucks, I prefer mint chocolate.’

“You’re adorable.” I accidentally said it out loud but the way your cheeks blushed made me wished I had said it a little sooner.

‘Shut up.’

 

*****

 

“Are you sure these won’t poison me?”

‘It’s just cookies stop being over dramatic.’

“It’s mint. Who the hell eats mint cookies?”

 

*****

 

          The first time we kissed, or should I say the first time I kissed you, you were sleeping. Now that I think of it, I was so much of a creep back in college; I wonder what you really saw in me. We had walked back from the New Year’s party one of the girls threw, and you just instantly passed out on the bed. I swear, all I meant to do was to tuck you in, but somehow, you managed to lay your head on my lap, and I pretended that I was drunk enough to let you. It’s a lie if I said you looked beautiful in your sleep, because your hair was all messy, drooling from the side of your mouth and teeth grinding here and there, but it was perfect for me. I don’t know how much time passed but I just sat there, stroking your hair and after a while, I just bent down and kissed you. It was chaste, but it got me all warm and content, I fell asleep next to you. The next time we kissed however, we were both awake. We drank a little but we were nowhere near drunk. Before that, I knew I had feelings for you, but that night changed it all. You had feelings for me too, and I was not prepared for that. Before that night, I was fine lying to myself, telling myself it’s just a college fling. That it didn’t count, but when you kissed me back I realised how badly I actually wanted you. It was definitely more than a fling, and I panicked. So I left, and I avoided you for weeks but of course, we ended up doing it again not long after. I wish I can say I regretted it, and wished that it didn’t happen, but the only thing I regretted, honestly, was running away that first night. I wished I stayed.

 

*****

 

‘You shouldn’t be kissing me when you have a girlfriend.’

“Uh, we broke up actually.”

‘Well she was ugly anyway.’

“You said she was nice though when I introduced you too.

‘She was nice. And ugly too.’

 

*****

 

          Our first argument was in your dorm room. It was in the middle of our finals, and I did something that had hit the wrong nerve with you. The anger wasn’t caused but that itself of course, it was because I kept on avoiding any touching with you in public, even just the friendly ones. I never saw you that angry, I was honestly scared you would actually leave me for good that time, but of course you didn’t. I still thank the spider for that.

‘I don’t know how long I can-‘You stopped midway and got really stiff.

“Oh, so are you finally done with your yelling now? I swear-“

‘Shh!’ “What?!” ‘I said shut the fuck up!’ You whispered angrily at me.

“Why are you whispering? Why am I whispering?!!”

‘There is a huge ass spider directly on top of your head right now so. Shut. Up. And don’t move a muscle!’ That was when the spider decided to sprint to your direction and before I knew it, I had an armful of you, clutching on o me like your very life depended on it. All my anger and worry disappeared in a second, and I burst out laughing. You hit my chest but didn’t let go.

“It’s just a spider. Come one, get off-“

‘You put me down now and I swear, I’ll never see your rat face again.’ You threatened me, but the way your eyes keep looking around for the spider didn’t make it threatening in the least.

“You still have to study, and the last time I checked your table is still at that corner.”

‘I’ll just grab my books; I’ll study at your dorm. I don’t care. I’m not staying here a second longer.’

“Okay baby, you still need to let go though so we can walk there.”

‘Just so you know, I am still angry- OH MY GOD I JUST FELT IT CRAWLING ACROSS MY LEG! GET OUT! GET OUT GOD DAMN IT!!!’ And that’s how I find myself with an armful of you, barefooted, outside the door of your dorm. Everyone was staring, but for once I didn’t really care, not when you had tears brimming your eyes and your hands clutching me tightly again. Not when I thought I would’ve really lost you that night, but I didn’t.

 

*****

 

‘Can I finally move back to my dorm now?’

“Nothing is stopping you, you know that?”

‘Let me rephrase. Have you killed that spawn of Satan yet?’

“Over dramatic don’t you think?”

‘Until you kill that thing, which you promised to do by the way! I am not moving from this bed. And it’s your bed, so your loss.’

“Hmm? I don’t mind some cuddling.”

‘Go to hell.’

“Sure, let me just go bring that spider-“

‘DON’T YOU DARE!’

 

*****

 

     Those were some of the better memories we had shared together. I remember a couple of years after the first night I met you on the beach, I brought a girl there instead. And I knew you were watching, in fact that’s the only reason I brought her there in the first place. If my memories serve me correctly then that has to be one of the earliest things I did to put some real distance between ourselves. It happened right after summer break, when I came out to my parents. They acted like nothing happened however, pretended that I never said a thing. And cowardly, I followed their act. I didn’t know how to tell you, so I just showed you instead. Or rather, showed you something that would automatically make you understood that we had no chance together. Perhaps I should’ve chosen a better place, that beach was our sacred spot after all. And I regretted not spending even more time on that beach with you because after that day, neither of us really went to the beach anymore.

          I did go back there one more time though, it was a year or so after we graduated. A year without any contact with you, and I had just received the news of me landing my first job. I was ecstatic, and it made me miss your smile so much; so I went back to the beach. I walked where we had walked so many times before and sat on your favourite rock, where we had sat multiple times before too. Memories of our time spent there plays in my memory, and before I knew it, I had spent a couple of hours just sitting there, watching the sun sets. Before I leave, I decided to carve out our names on that rock. That is sadly as far as my timid self could go, and you don’t deserve that of course. You deserve for your name to be shouted at the top of my lungs, not carved on a rock. But I carved our names there anyway, in hope that maybe one day you’d return and see it. And realise that I had loved you, despite my horrible way of showing it.

          There are a lot of things I need to apologise for, but mainly I want to say I’m sorry for causing you so much pain, and for dragging you down the dirt with me. I’m not sure if you knew but I did love you. I still love you but, I guess I just love me a little more. I know there is no amount of apologies that could ever be enough to make you forgive me, but I just want to let you know that I’ve spent so many nights crying myself to sleep at the thought of us. You were perfect for me, if only we were born on a completely different era.

          A time where I could hold your hands in public without the fear of judgement and the looks of disgust. I’m regretful, that the love we could’ve had together had to be killed off by my cowardice. I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to carry the both of us and I’m sorry I purposely made you weaker, so that you couldn’t carry the burden, even when you’re more than willing to. I’m sorry to have manipulated you so horribly.

          I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me, because I’m not sure if you understood me. But perhaps you did, considering the fact that you had stayed. Despite the bullshit, and the pain, you had stayed. In your mind, life had given us a second chance when we met again and I’m sorry I made you think so. I promised myself to let you go in college and I managed to, but when they said they saw you again; after all those years, I just couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I needed to see you, I missed you so much. Even though I knew I am still the same old coward, still undeserving of you. I’m sorry I dragged you with me, you deserve so much more. A part of me had wished that you’d meet someone that could love you and cherish you in the ways that I couldn’t. But I knew that if you had, I would’ve begged you to stay with me instead. I’d tell you empty lies about how this time it’d be different, that I’d change. And I don’t know what saddens me more, the fact that I’m blatantly lying to your face or the fact that you know that I am lying, yet you’d choose me anyway, all I had to do was ask.

          And I’m sorry I never told you how much I had appreciated you but I truly did. The nights I had spent with you are the best ones, truly. I’m sorry I never once smiled during those nights, but how could I? Every second you’re with me, I’m reminded about how horrible I am. Every time you return to the steps of my green door, I get all giddy and I despise myself for it. How could I possibly smile for you, when I know I am poisoning you? I just had to pretend that I don’t know how you are dying a little more every time you come back. How could I smile through that?

          When I touch you, I don’t even dare to remove our clothes off; I’m scared I’ll stain you. I’m scared you’d realise how disgustingly dirty I am, I’m scared you’d realise that I am nothing, I’m scared you’d leave. And I’m sorry that you have to drink so much for you to come and see me. But I drank with you anyway. I also smoke with you, and every single time the night at that beach would be replaying in my head. I’m sorry I keep making you sad, I’m sorry I broke my promise. So I drink to that, silently hoping that the litres of alcohol I had consumed would minus years off of my life. Just so that I can die a little faster and move on to my next lifetime. Our next life, where I would finally treat you the way you deserve.

          During the nights that you come, I couldn’t even spend an extra minute next to your beautiful body once we were done. It’d be disrespectful; I’ve defiled you enough as it is. I’d go and take a shower in a poor attempt to clean my disgusting body; - when in fact it is my soul that needs a cleansing – as if by doing so, I’d cleanse me off of my actions as well. Undo the night before; undo me hurting you yet again.

          I’m sorry I caused you so much grief, I’m sorry my selfishness took so much from you. Maybe it’s because I was an only child? Selfishness became second nature to me. So I need you to understand that I didn’t really have a choice, even though you used to tell me time and again that there is always a choice. The day my parents acted like nothing had happened, I knew there is no way they would ever accept me, accept us. You wouldn’t’ understand, you had no parents. And I’m not being mean about it, in fact, I’m quite envious. Again, don’t take me wrong. I love my parents, and I know they love me too. But it’s easier to dive headfirst into anything when you know for a fact you’re the only one that have to pay for the consequences. I want to walk proudly as whom I really am, but I need them to be proud of it to. And when they didn’t, I didn’t to.

          Of course, this could just be the excuse that I’m clutching to; because it’s always easier to blame someone else isn’t it? If I have to admit, I’m not sure if I’d be able to walk out the door even after they had accepted me, because the world we live in is cruel. People like us don’t only get scorned, some get attacked too, and I am too scared for that. And I believe the love we could’ve had would be strong enough to handle it, I know for a fact you would be strong enough to handle it but I’m not sure if I was. If I ever will be that brave. At the end of the day, I guess it was a mix of my cowardice and my selfishness that got us into this mess, and I am truly sorry for that.

          There are times I would get so angry at you, for letting me drag you, but it’d disappear almost instantly because it just shows that you love me too much. My heart hurts because of that, but it never gets broken because you’re always there to keep together. But by doing so, your heart must’ve been broken time and again hadn’t it? I’m sorry you had to stay, but I’m thankful for it as well. Like I said, there is no amount of apologies that would be enough; in fact I don’t want you to forgive me. I have a feeling that you would, too easily. I just had to apologise and tell you my side of the story, but don’t forgive me. Then I’d have to apologise again for that, and this mess would only grow deeper wouldn’t it?

          Those last 3 days we spent together meant the world to me; because it was the first time in all our time spent together we acted like real lovers. We laughed, we loved and most of all, we both stayed. It was indeed too good to be true, and if it was up to me I never wanted to leave that bed, I would’ve been content to spend the rest of time just with you there. But reality waits for no one, and it ended so quickly. There were still so any things I wanted to tell you, and things I wanted to do with you. I wanted to tell you I love you and kiss every inch of your body, I wanted to give you love that would last us a lifetime, until we see each other again.

          If only I knew the second you left, I wouldn’t see you again till the night of my wedding; I would’ve chased you then and there. You might call me a liar, but I swear, if I had known I’d waste a whole year without me seeing you, I would have. If I had known the night of the wedding would be our last meeting, I’d chased you out of the hall too.

          You see, there are many things I need to apologise for, and many things I regret. But none of it compared to the fact that I didn’t spend more time with you. If I could turn back time, I’d go and meet you a little sooner. I’d introduce myself to you a little sooner. I’d talk to you on that beach a little sooner, and I wouldn’t have let you lose contact with me after college at all. Even a second more would’ve meant the world to me, because now, I’d never get another second with you.

 

*****

 

_“Honey? How was your honeymoon?”_

_“It’s nice mum. It’s fine.”_

_“Oh, I’m glad. I can’t wait for you two to come visit. My son and my daughter in law.”_

_“Yeah, us too.”_

_“Are you two busy right now? You sound like it.”_

_“No, we’re just tired that’s all. Still jet lagged.”_

_“Oh, I’ll leave you two to it then. Don’t forget to call me when you’re coming though, okay honey?”_

_“Sure mum.”_

_“Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to wait until you return to tell you this, so…”_

_“What is it mum?”_

_“That one guy, your best friend from college, remember? I invited him to your wedding? He… He passed away, it was an accident honey. It happened the day after the wedding, but I didn’t want to ruin your trip for you- honey? Hello? Are you still there? Honey?!”_

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO it's finally over :D Thanks to all who read it, it's still very lacking and I promise to continue to edit this and make it as flawless as possible but until then, thank you so much for the kudos! Each one meant so much to me :) I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. Shout out to my 'mum' lol Thanks for the generous feedback throughout this whole writing process. I'll give you a yam next time ;)


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